The High Road - More Seeds of Hope

From the Gospel of John chapter 8, verse 23 He said to them, “You belong to what is below, I belong to what is above. You belong to this world, but I do not belong to this world.” There was a certain priest, a rather charismatic, young fellow. He was often requested to visit other churches to say mass. On one such occasion, he was driving across town during early morning rush hour. The sun had not yet come up, but the traffic certainly had. He had gotten up early that morning so he wouldn’t have to worry about being late, yet he had looked at his emails before he left and saw an urgent prayer request. Father took the time to open that email, prayed about it, and sent a thoughtful response. Just before he got into his car, the maintenance man of the parish said hello. The priest said, “How are you today?” The maintenance man revealed that his back had gone out the previous night, and he was in significant pain. He had forgotten his Ibuprofen and wondered if the priest had some, which, of course, he did. So, Padre Perfect, as he was sometimes called, rushed up three flights of stairs to get the medicine. After all this, his GPS showed that he would arrive at the church about five minutes before mass began. He had hoped to be there 30 minutes ahead of time. And now, he was stuck in traffic. The GPS added a minute to his arrival time. The lane next to his was moving, so when there was an opening, he darted into that lane. The driver in the car he cut in front of laid on the horn, not a polite little tap, but a jarring, blaring, extended honk. When Padre Perfect looked in his rearview mirror, the man behind him raised up his hand with his middle finger prominently above the other clinched fingers. The priest said a prayer for the driver behind him. Really, he did. And the priest felt a bit of calm as he said the prayer. When the priest looked again in his rearview mirror, the driver behind him was now tailgating him. They were inches away from an accident. Padre Perfect sped up a bit, but the car behind him kept right on his rear end. To get this fellow off his back, the priest switched lanes, but a blinding light was suddenly hitting his mirror and going directly into his eye. The car from the other lane had followed him and the driver had now turned on his bright lights. Padre Perfect flipped his rearview mirror so the lights were no longer shining in his eyes. And since his hand was already up in the air, he considered flipping the driver off as well. He resisted that temptation but found himself slowing his vehicle down to a snail’s pace. The car in front of him pulled away, but he barely budged. “How do you like that?” he asked out loud to the driver behind him. The Padre was so angry he could hardly breathe. A few seconds later, the car behind him pulled into the other lane and sped away—obnoxiously honking as he passed by. OK, let’s be clear here. Nobody’s perfect, not even Padre Perfect. But we all have an internal guide inside of us, something that helps us to take the high road. When we get caught up in a shouting match, or try to outdo each other in being nasty, nobody wins. And you can tell this, because you never feel good about it. You become all worked up—can’t think straight, can’t enjoy dinner, can’t sleep. Does this sound familiar? It’s the low road. That is not the way of Jesus, which isn’t to say he never gets upset, or he never speaks his mind. He does speak his mind. He does get upset. He is trying to save as many people as he can. He wants them to believe in what the Father has revealed to him. That message is to take the high road, to devote yourself to caring for others even when they attack you. Remember that—next time you’re in rush-hour traffic. Now let’s take 30 seconds to water the seed… What’s a time you took the high road?